Recovery
by JoongStarr
Summary: Sasori is healing from a mission and Deidara keeps him company in silence until one day he decides to finally speak the words he's been meaning to. Light Fluff. ONESHOT


**Author's Note: **Ah, I haven't written a Sasori and Deidara fanfic in about a year :) So this felt good. Decided to keep Deidara more in character (meaning he isn't hyper, giddy, and innocent and dumb as hell) in this oneshot. Hope you all enjoy.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Naruto.**

It was one of those days. More specifically, it was the kind of day that made you want to crawl under a rock in hopes that no one would be able to find you. I always hated it when Deidara came to visit.

Lately, he's been like a parasite – skittering around the room, straightening my pencils and stacks of paper, aligning my water bottles along the desk and rubbing out the creases in my thin blanket. He has no idea how much it annoys me. Every time he comes to visit, a new silence never fails to fall around us like dead weight. The unspoken words between us have already started to fester from being neglected for so long. I tangle my fingers in my sheets as I watch Deidara draw back the curtains and open the windows. The tension and anxiety is rolling off of his body in massive waves. It's drowning us. He needs to stop. Tiredly, I sigh and throw my legs over the side of the bed ignoring the pain that shoots through my sore muscles and bruised skin. I hate this. The pain. I need to become a puppet again. A cool breeze from outside causes me to just barely shudder but Deidara, somehow, sees it.

"Cold?" He asks and the sound of his deep voice traveling to my ear hits me like a ton of bricks. I wasn't expecting him to say anything today either.

"Leave them open." I tell him and frown at how scratchy my voice sounds before reaching over to grab some bottled water off the nightstand. "The breeze feels nice."

Deidara's looking right at me now and for once he isn't moving. He isn't wiping down stuff, realigning empty water bottles, pushing in my abandoned chair or anything like that. _For once_, he's still.

"Whatever, if you get sick don't say I didn't ask, hm. All I'll do is laugh, hm."

I want to retort but I honestly don't have the energy to put up with Deidara's mouth today or even tomorrow for that matter. I stiffen when Deidara pads over and I feel his calloused fingers lightly drum on my left knee for a few seconds before pulling away and for the first time in two days he's actually looking at me. Not staring at me but _looking _at me. His sky blue eyes are wide and intense. His jaw is tight and his blonde eyebrows are drawn deep together in thought.

"When you recover … we need to start training together again, hm." He says suddenly and pushes those long blonde locks back behind his shoulders. "Are you feeling better Sasori-danna, hm?"

"Brat, do I look better to you?" I snap at him, angry and irritated. "And what are you trying to say? Whatever it is just spit it out." I snarl and glare as I cross my arms expectantly. Deidara always found a way to piss me off. Who did he think he was belittling me? "Are you trying to say that I'm weak, brat? And get the hell away." I push him as hard as I can in my weakened state but he doesn't budge. It's then that I'm reminded of the amount of strength hidden under those delicate features. His biceps coil just beneath taught skin and the muscles in his chest are hard, tight and defined under the palms of my hands from years of heavy training.

We're both strong but in different ways. I've hardly ever had to use taijutsu because my puppets –and my puppet body– were always enough. At least they used to be. Feeling insecure, I take a quick glance at my thin legs and slender arms and almost immediately I begin to feel disgusted with myself. I hate this body. Suddenly, I start wishing I had incorporated more taijutsu and strength training in my sessions with Deidara when I first became human again. The sound of Deidara snickering instantly snaps me out of my thoughts and before I can form an insult, he's wrapping his arms around me. His shoulders are trembling but I've been around Deidara long enough to know that he isn't crying. That just isn't something he does and if he has, I haven't seen it. I resist the instinctive urge to pull away and let my head rest on his shoulder. We don't do this often.

"I'm fine, Deidara."

"Don't risk your life for me ever again, hm."

I don't say okay. In fact, I don't say anything because we both know that –even if we do love each other– I wouldn't ever follow orders from him.

**owari**


End file.
